


pick up

by chumpi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt Stiles, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott Needs A Hug, Stiles Dies, Stiles Forgives, Stiles Stilinksi Angst, Stiles Stilinksi Whump, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, ignorant scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 20:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chumpi/pseuds/chumpi
Summary: “I didn’t mean to, well, bother you tonight, I know it was reserved for you two, but I just wanted to talk to you before I-"Stiles is dying, and Scott is refusing to pick up the phone, but Stiles doesn't blame him, because Scott did tell him not to call, seeing as he was spending time with Kira after all, but seriously, the one time Stiles actually needs him?





	pick up

Stiles is choking, there’s blood in his throat and blood in his mouth. Bubbles of the red liquid spill over his quivering cracked lips and tumble down his pale cheeks like the trickle of rainfall. His chest is heaving, up, down, up, down, with each struggling breath he barely manages to take. The gashes in his stomach are a constant reminder that a human should never interfere with the likes of the supernatural, no matter how close you are to a certain red-eyed werewolf. Stiles closes his eyes, opening them only to see the ever-there, towering trees and with one, pale, shaking hand, he reaches into his front, jean pocket and pulls out his practically shattered phone - his fingers smear blood across the screen but by some, Godly miracle he manages to slide to unlock it and dial the first number that pops up on his recent calls; Scott’s. 

 

Scott is tangled up in bed with Kira, one of his hands is tangled in her mess of silky, black hair and the other is snaked around her waist, holding the daintier female close to his toned chest. Her breath tickles his neck where her face is pressed against it but he pays no mind to it, too caught up in the fact that despite losing Allison to the Oni, he’s managed to find love again in the form of a beautiful Kitsune. “I love y-“ He starts, his voice sugary sweet and as smooth as caramel all at once when he’s interrupted by the shrill ringtone to his phone blaring from his bedside table. A loud, drawn-out groan falls from his lips upon realising that of course, it just has to be _Stiles_ ringing him. Scott could have sworn he’d told his best friend that he was spending tonight with Kira and not to bother the two until the next morning (and even then they might be too wrapped up with each other to notice the presence of others). And after a few moments of listening to the ringtone, he chooses to ignore it, hoping that Stiles will find somebody else to bother that night. 

 

Stiles stares at the phone, a sense of dread falling over him, the dread even worse than the burning pain coursing through his veins like rivers of flowing tallow, melting his body from the inside out. Scott had actually declined his call – thoughts race about Stiles’ mind but he pays no mind to it as he rings again, and again, and again, each time Scott declining even quicker, if only the damn wolf would just pick up, because even now, only a few minutes later from the initial attack, Stiles can feel his heavy organs slipping from the nasty gashes and there’s a daunting, cold breeze invading his once warm insides, chilling him right down to the bone. “Please just pick up,” He pleads to nobody in particular, because at this point, he feels as if there was _really_ a God, he would’ve helped Stiles by now, but no, he was still here bleeding out and spending his last moments alone. 

 

But six minutes later, the insistent ringing is really starting to piss Scott off, Kira is starting to stir from her slumber against his chest because of the loud ringing and, in all honesty, Scott himself just doesn’t have the time nor patience anymore to actually listen to Stiles ramble on and on, he just wants the other boy to stop ringing so he can go back to sleeping and then fussing over Kira, but no, Stiles seems to have other plans because, surprise, surprise, Scott’s phone is going off again. With a deep huff of breath, Scott answers, and before Stiles can actually get anything out, he snarls into the receiver, “Stiles, I swear to God if you don’t stop ringing I’m going to come to your house and break your phone,” He spits, completely missing the hurtful wheeze Stiles lets out and ends the call, turning the volume off on his phone and placing it in a drawer, moving back to hold Kira who immediately snuggles up against Scott again and he completely forgets everything that had happened with Stiles in the past ten minutes. 

 

Stiles calls Scott again after he hangs up, listens with a heavy heart as it goes straight to voicemail, and takes a deep breath before starting his message. “Hey Scott, um, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, for interrupting you and Kira, for starters, that is,” Stiles’ voice is raspy and sounds almost unused, “I didn’t mean to, well, bother you tonight, I know it was reserved for you two, but I just wanted to talk to you before I.. well, anyway. I hope you do okay, after this, and I want you to know that it isn’t your fault, Scotty. I know you will think it is, because I know _you,_ Scott, but trust me, this is just how it was meant to be. I think the universe intended for it-“ Stiles goes silent for a few moments, raking in a shaky breath before continuing, “For it to be like this. But again, don’t worry, I promise not to haunt you from- from beyond the grave.” Stiles’ fingers feel numb and the once burning pain has mellowed out into a dull ache. “Look after my dad for me, yeah, Scott? Make sure he’s okay and doesn’t eat too much junk food. And look after the pack too, especially Derek, we all know that he can get really grumpy and sulky sometimes.” Stiles lets out a broken, quivering laugh and crimson blood trails its way down his cheeks again, mixing in with the salty tears that are quite steadily leaking from his eyes. “I love you, Scott McCall... you were always my favourite.” The blood-smeared phone slips from Stiles’ blue fingers and the last thing he hears is the scream of a banshee. 

 

 

Scott cries the first time he hears the voicemail and the second time, and third, in fact, he cries every single damn time he listens to Stiles’ quivering broken voice claiming that it wasn’t Scott’s fault and that he loves him. He’d cried when he and Kira had rushed over to Lydia’s house and she’d simply whispered in a broken voice, “Stiles.” He’d cried when they found the boys’ body, laying cold in the woods, his blood crusted around the open, gaping wounds and Scott had cried as they lowered the casket into the ground, the Sheriff stood there mourning the loss of his son and his last link to Claudia. Scott cried when he first found the voicemail for how could he have been so ignorant to ignore Stiles in his last moments? If only he’d known, Scot had told himself. But really, Scott should have known anyway. Stiles wouldn’t have called for no reason and now he was dead because of Scott.

 

All because of Scott.


End file.
